A joyous Yule or other festival of choice to everyone. As in previous years, I am participating in Loren Eaton’s Advent Ghosts 100-word scary story project. This year, a story inspired by a Wiltshire legend:
Uncountable Sorrow
Twelve stones.
It was silly; a story made up by locals to get outsiders to buy drinks.
But then he was an outsider now; and, according to Jen, a bunch of other things.
Getting her to come without telling her where had almost caused another argument. But once she realised they were here and he’d brought the same picnic. They even put their hands on the stones like their first date.
Shouldn’t have left his phone on. But the merger was still delicate.
One, two… eleven?
*Ring*
Unknown number? Must be calling from a payphone. “Jen?”
“…Smythe…. police…. accident…”
Super. Great atmosphere. Thanks for sharing!
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Cheers
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Such great details in this one. I’m ignorant of the said Wiltshire legend, though. Help a clueless American out?
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If you count the stones at Stanton Drew you allegedly get a different number each time.
I’m not daft enough to have tried it, though, so can’t confirm.
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Fixed length stories are harder than they seem.
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Very true; usually the first draft of a story is the slowest part, but I find half the time investment of a drabble is on adding or taking away that last word to get the precise count.
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I don’t know what happened, but I think Smythe worked something wicked.
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That is one interpretation.
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Good story, fine ending.
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Thanks.
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Your blog is amazing 🙂
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Thanks.
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Enigmatic, in a very good way. Well Done, David.
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Glad it resonated.
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